Chapter 26 REICH
REICH
She thinks I want to control her.
The thought kept circling in my head like a vulture. She couldn’t be more wrong. If only it were that simple. Control was easy. I didn’t need to want it—it was second nature. No, the problem was far worse.
I didn’t trust her. And that was why I had to keep her close. Why I had to keep watching her, questioning her, stripping her down until I found something I could believe in.
But Sage… she was all sharp edges and shadowed glances. Half-truths and practiced silences. I could see the effort it took for her to hold herself together every time I asked for something real. It wasn’t defiance that kept her quiet.
It was survival. That made it harder.
Because even knowing that, it didn’t stop me from wanting her.
Not just the feel of her body under my hands—though, fuck, that haunted me too—but something deeper.
I wanted to unravel her. Slowly. Intimately.
I wanted to be the one who pulled her apart and laid every piece bare. I wanted to know her. Every flicker of her rage, every crack in her armor, every last bruise on her soul.
I wanted it all.
The parts she wouldn’t give anyone.
And when she’d looked at me, those bright green eyes brimming with something raw when she asked for my help... something lit up inside me. A spark of hope that maybe I was finally getting through.
But I’d missed something.
Music.
The one thing that had always tethered me to something real. The one thing that had kept me sane when everything else was nothing but static and ruin. My one escape. It had been hers too. I’d seen it in her eyes that night of the festival and at the House of Music.
She craved it.
Needed it.
Just like I did.
When I left her room, my pulse was wild, like I’d already lost something I hadn’t earned yet. I had no choice but to lean into instinct. This was my way in. My way to earn her words, her truths. Music was the door I had to walk through.
I spent hours that night sifting through my collection, something I hadn’t done in years with this kind of purpose. Every song held its own kind of history, but I wasn’t looking for nostalgia.
I was building a bridge.
One hundred songs. No bullshit. No filler. Each one chosen because I knew the ache behind the lyrics.
Knew what it felt like to need them like oxygen.
And maybe—just maybe—it would remind her there was something worth holding on to.
Maybe it would remind me.
By the time the sun bled into the sky, I was ready. Playlist queued, meal prepped, hands shaking just a little too much as I knocked once on her door before letting myself in.
She was curled up on the bed, wrapped in sheets that clung to her body like they knew how desperately she needed protection. Her breathing was steady, but the faint crease between her brows told me her mind was still chewing through the nightmares.
She looked almost peaceful.
But I knew better.
I crossed the room, setting the tray on the dresser with quiet precision. I could hear the rustling of sheets behind me. When I turned, green eyes locked on me. Awake. Watching.
Sadness flickered there.
And something else.
Something she didn’t want me to see but hadn’t figured out how to hide.
“I have something for you,” I said, clearing my throat. My voice came out rougher than I wanted. “A few things, actually.”
She didn’t move right away. She stayed there, frozen in hesitation, like she wasn’t sure whether this was another game. I gave her time. Let her take it.
When she finally crawled toward me, clutching the sheets around her like they’d offer her protection, it hit harder than it should’ve. Even in this room, even with all the things I’d given her, she didn’t feel safe.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
She eyed the tray warily. “Why are there two plates?”
“Because one’s mine,” I said, casual. Simple.
I picked up the second fork and took a bite, making sure she saw it.
Her gaze lingered.
There was something about the way she looked at me then. Like I was offering her something she couldn’t quite believe was real.
She took the plate. Ate slowly. Carefully.
I arched a brow, catching the shy glances she tried to hide. When our eyes met, she flinched and looked away.
But then she looked back.
Endearing wasn’t a word I used often.
But that’s exactly what she was in that moment.
“What?” I asked after a while, teasing. “Is there a problem with the food?”
She shook her head quickly, swallowing. “No. I just didn’t expect you to eat with me.”
“Well,” I said, “I am.”
I didn’t explain it further.
I wasn’t even sure I could.
And maybe that was what made this all feel so grounding.
We ate in silence, but it wasn’t heavy like I expected. It felt… normal. Comfortable.
By the time I finished, she was still pushing food around. Picking at it, distracted. I let her be. Instead, I grabbed the portable music player I’d set up for her and turned it on.
The first notes drifted into the room.
Soft. Raw.
A melody that spoke of bruises and survival.
It shifted everything.
When I looked back, her eyes were already on me. Bright. Unreadable.
But her breathing had slowed. Her shoulders were looser.
Something about the music was working.
“Music,” I said quietly. “As requested,” I handed her the controls.
As her fingers brushed mine, the faintest hint of her scent hit me. Sweet. Clean. Always like wildflowers after a rainstorm, just like the night we met.
It shouldn’t have made me feel the way it did.
But it did.
“Thank you, Reich.”
My name on her lips shouldn’t have hit me the way it did either.
But again, it did.
Everything she did was like a punch I welcomed.
“You’re welcome, Sage.” I stepped back, leaning against the wall to steady myself, before continuing, “Are you ready to talk?”
Her body tensed.
She pulled back into herself.
My patience thinned.
“Sage,” I warned. “You’re testing me. The longer you hold out, the worse this becomes.”
She glared at me then. Defiance sparking hard in her eyes.
“Why does it matter, Reich?” she snapped. “Why does my past matter so much to you?”
I didn’t blink, just spoke, all business, “Because you may not trust me. But I need to trust you and knowing all the information is how I do that.”
Her jaw clenched.
She wanted to fight.
And maybe she should have.
But I wasn’t letting her win this.
“Keep playing this game of hide and seek” I said quietly, almost deadly, “and you’ll stay stuck in it.”
“I’m not playing your games,” she hissed and then pushed her plate off the bed, getting up from where she was sitting.
The plate clattered loudly as it hit the floor.
I didn’t flinch.
But something in me snapped.
“You drive me fucking insane.” My voice came out low, rough—more confession than accusation.“You can’t hide forever, Sage. One day, you’ll have to take the mask off…and face who you really are.”
I crossed the space in two long strides and backed her against the wall before she could take another step.My hands braced on either side of her head, caging her in—not to trap her, but to stop myself from unraveling.
She stared up at me, breath coming quick and shallow.“If I push you that far,” she whispered, “then why keep me here? Why not just let me walk away?”
I sucked in a breath, sharp and tight in my chest.The words slipped before I could stop them.“I’ve tried.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And?”
I met her gaze then—no armor, no mask. Just the truth.“All it did was make me want to know why you keep hiding from me.”
The fight drained from her like a wave pulling back.Her jaw slackened, something in her softening—not even surrender, but something much deeper.
“You said I could come to you depending on what I need,” she said, her voice lower, watching me through her thick, heavy lashes.
“I did.” I swallowed, realizing I may have just fucked up.
“What did you mean by that?” She asked, fidgeting with the edge of her tank top, with her fingers tracing over the hem of her shirt slightly.
Her hands far too close to me.
To my waist.
And then she shrugged, and the strap of her top slid down her shoulder.
My throat went dry.
“What do you need, Sage?” I asked carefully.
But I already knew.
And so did she.
I backed up, putting some more distance in between us, but she surprised me and stepped closer, closing in that space I attempted.
Her shorts slid slowly down her hips to the ground, sending my mind spiraling as my entire body went taut.
“What are you doing?” My voice was rougher than I meant.
She didn’t answer.
The other strap fell away.
She turned her back to me, baring the delicate curve of her neck to me like a silent offering.
“Can you untie the knot?” she asked quietly.
I exhaled through my teeth as I stepped in close.
My fingers brushing her skin as I pulled the knot free.
As you wish, wildflower.
Her top slid away.
And then she turned to face me.
Bare.
Exposed.
Unflinching.
Nothing but teasing eyes and a slight smile that said it all.
I was completely, utterly fucked.
And I knew it.